Insidious
by Nirbrian
Summary: Alphonse had not asked for any of this. What was being done was unfair! It was hurtful! It was poisonous! Just how much had changed in the years of his and Edward's journey? He remembered naught, and worse yet, there are those who take advantage of such ignorance. Rated M for violence and sensitive subject material. Reader discretion strongly advised. Written for abuse awareness.
1. Prologue

Prologue

...But by the time Edward had rounded the corner, his eyes met the grisly sight of his little brother, his sweet innocent baby brother, lying motionless on the cold, wet concrete of the dark and lonely alley. There was blood, too much blood, gruesomely sprayed across the wall and trailed down to where the little boy had sunken to the ground in defeat, sitting limp in a puddle of his own life that was no longer flowing openly as it had been before.

The golden eyes of the famous alchemist, which had seen countless numbers of corpses and dismembered messes, shrunk to small amber dots in utter shock. The scream… it had been Alphonse'? He never would have guessed such a scream could be produced by some so quiet such as his sibling. The shock of the realization was overwhelming and the teenager was frozen, his mind willing his belligerent muscles to move, which they flatly refused to do.

The blood, the enormous puddle of blood was not growing bigger, nor was Alphonse moving. Was he dead? Edward couldn't tell from where he stood. Surely, he had not been the only one who had heard the scream. Why was he the only one there then? Why wasn't anybody else coming to help? Were people afraid that they would become the next victim? Had people really become that selfish? Edward knew that people were exceedingly self-centered, always acting out of self-interest rather than morality, and he was guilty of that as well, but he had never realized just how selfish people could be, or how blind.

He had not the slightest idea how long he had been standing in the end of the alley, nor did he care, when his legs finally chose to comply with his brain's pleas to move, and began to push him onward on their own accord. "Alphonse… Alphonse… Alphonse…' A very monotonous thought process went through his head at the time being. Only two words were able to push through the hazy fog of shock that clouded his brilliant mind. 'Alphonse… Alphonse… Alphonse… Brother…'

Pupils dilated, Edward stared at his precious, beloved, adorable younger sibling, who's blood-soaked body was too pale and too still. He had dealt with situations similar to this one in the past, in a sense, but not quite. In previous encounters with victims of violence, he had never been in contact with the person beforehand, nor was he afterward; however, not only did he know the victim of this attack, but it was his brother, his only family left, his whole heart, the person he had dedicated his entire life to protect. He loved his brother more than anything in the whole world. This could not possibly be happing. It could not possibly be real.

At least, Edward wished it was not.

He gaped at the small body before his feet, his breath coming in short, ragid gasps. Part of his mind was telling him not to check for a pulse. If he clung to the thought that Alphonse was alive without gaining any conflicted evidence that would prove that theory to be false, it had to be so. He had to be alive, yet the other half of his brain was screaming at him to take his sibling by the shoulders and shake him back into consciousness and listen for the soft, rhythmic thumbing of his sacred heartbeat. What to do? What to do? His brain was lost in the sight before him, unable to comprehend, nor judge, nor control any sort of motion. No action was taken, and he stood still, wide-eyed. 'Alphonse… Alphonse… Alphonse… My brother…. Alphonse…'

Time seemed to speed up, yet go so slow all at once, and the rain that fell on him, the wind that painfully chilled his fingers vanished from his awareness entirely. Nothing registered in the young man's scrambling, paralyzed brain, which, only for a moment, began to deny that the small boy in front of him was, in fact, not actually his little brother at all, but a complete stranger, someone he had never met before, someone that meant nothing to him. However, the light brown hair held back in a low ponytail along with the red jacket left no room for any argument. There was no denying that the small body belonged to Alphonse Elric.

His knees buckled underneath this suddenly unbearable weight, as if a large, grand piano had descended from the sky and landed upon his head, adding about one thousand pounds to his own original weight, and he collapsed before the limp body popped up against the bloody brick wall behind him. 'It can't… It can't… It can't…' Two new words introduced themselves to the black void that Edward's brain had become, caving in on itself, devouring any logic that it had once possessed. The body that he was staring at was his brother, his brother his baby brother, his only family, his heart, his brother. How could that be? His little brother was always so smart, so intuitive, and so strong. Surely he would have been able to fight back? Surely whoever had done this to him did not leave without injury? There was no blood, other than Alphonse' to corroborate this theory, though.

Perhaps, had he done it to himself? _Impossible_. Edward refused to believe that his brother would do something as radical as that. He knew Alphonse, and he knew him extremely well. He knew his baby sibling was a happy boy, who loved everyone, especially Edward, and loved life. The boy had so much to live for with as much brain-power as he had. At the age of ten, Edward considered the boy to be a genius. He read college level books in only two days, whereas most ten year olds hardly had the attention span to read novellas over one hundred pages. He understood things on a higher level than anyone Edward had ever known, and Alphonse was the most caring person he could think of. Certainly, even if he had wanted to take his own life, he would keep living out of pure love for Edward, knowing what it would do to him if he lost his brother. No, it was not right. Something was missing. What had happened here? What had happened to his baby brother? How could he have let something like this happen to he person he was supposed to protect? Was he really that much of a failure as an older brother?

The shock seemed to be too much for the alchemist. He was shaking violently and he felt nauseous, his head dizzy with vicious swarms of thoughts deafeningly buzzing about as his brain began to regain a portion of its function. 'Who did this to my brother? Why did they do it? Why...? Why...? He's all I have left...' What should he do? What should he do? His brother, his sweet baby brother, his whole life, his heart, was propped up against a brick wall, motionless, and possibly dead. What should he do? What _could_ he do? He was panicked, and his mind could not come to a conclusion. _Something,__something,__something_. He had to do _something_, something to save his little brother, something to make up for how he had _failed_ to protect him! Something, but _what_? What could he do? What could he do if his brother was already _dead_? What use would it be to call for help? What use would _he_ be?

His stomach could not handle the shock he had been put through, and his arms and legs grew minds of their own. Edward somehow managed to crawl mindlessly to the side of the dumpster, which was just a couple of feet away from his baby brother's motionless body, and he retched. How had he failed to protect his brother? How? He loved his brother more than anything in the entire world. He did everything the could to keep him safe. How could this have happened? How? And who? Who did this? Who the hell had the _audacity_ to lay their filthy hands on his beloved brother? Tears bubbled from his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks, and there was a burning in Edward's fingers along with the nearly irresistible urge to punch the assailant's face in. _No__one_ touched his brother. _No__one_ hurt his brother. _No__one_ so much as told his brother to shut up without word from Edward. He let _no__body_ he did not trust near his brother, but then, how could something like this possibly...

"Ku~... Nngh..."

Edward's head shot up immediately, and his heart began to pound, his brain violently snatched from his thoughtful reverie. Had his mind just played a trick on him? Were his ears deceiving him? He could have _sworn_ he had just heard his brother cough and moan. His brother was alive? Alphonse was alive? How could that be? There was so much _blood_, too much _blood,_but the miracles didn't stop there. Edward's wide eyes grew wider as he stared at his baby brother as he started to _move_, started to _shift_ in discomfort. Alphonse was _alive_! His sweet, precious baby brother was _alive_! The shock was nearly as overpowering as it had been when Edward had thought that he had lost Alphonse, everything that he lived for, and this revelation snapped his brain back into the reality of the situation. If his brother was alive, and, by the looks of it, severely wounded, he needed to get help immediately.

"Alphonse!" Edward screamed as his limbs, with the minds they had seemed to sprout only moments prior, carried him, with as much speed as they muster, over to his brother, who he gathered into his arms in one fluid motion. He sobbed openly in relief, pressing his younger sibling to his body as firmly as he could manage with arms that were trembling, his fingers running through his damp, light brown hair. The boy's skin felt so cold to the touch, and Edward could feel him shivering, but he was _alive_. Only moments ago, he had been sure that Alphonse had been dead, been so sure he would never hear his little brother's voice again, been so sure that he had committed the ultimate betrayal and let his brother perish. The sense of relief he felt was indescribable.

The boy in his arms pressed into his chest, searching for warmth, and weak hands grabbed at Edward's clothing, but his tiny brother's eyes remained closed, a desperate expression knitting his eyebrows. Edward instantaneously obliged to this action and unbuttoned his coat, wrapping it around his sibling. "I'm here, Al! I'm right here! You're gonna' be okay! I'll get you help!" His frantic voice sounded strange even to his own ears, seeming very out of place in such a quiet alley, and in response, a small, nearly inaudible, whimper gurgled from Alphonse' throat as he pressed even farther into the elder Elric, as if he wanted to be absorbed. "Just stay with me, Alphonse! Don't you dare die on me, you hear? I'm going to-" The sound of his sibling moaning cut him off abruptly, and Edward kissed his forehead, trying to soothe him. "C'mon, Al, talk to me. Tell me what hurts." He whispered, but Alphonse only continued to writhe and whimper piteously, appearing to be in a significant amount of pain, uncomprehending of the world around him.

With another choked sob, Edward slid his prosthetic right arm under Alphonse' legs, keeping his left under the boy's neck to offer support, and stood up. Immediately, his little brother stirred in his arms weakly, as if trying to break free of his grasp, and whimpered, his face contorting to display an expression of pain and desperation. Edward felt something break in his chest, and his own expression changed, morphing into an agonized sadness. "Sh... I know it hurts, Al... Just hang in there... I'm right here. Your big brother, Ed, is right here to protect you. You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you ever again. I promise. I'm so sorry."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The boy, who was much younger than he should have been, stared in bewilderment at the young man beside him as the sleep, which he had just momentarily been awakened from, slowly fled his newly retrieved body. The young man had features startlingly similar to that of his older brother's, including the long golden hair held in a loose braid behind his head and the beautiful amber eyes that had seen too much, but his older brother had only been one year older than him, which would make him eleven now. The young man sitting in a chair at the boy's bedside looked to be much older than that, probably around thirteen or fourteen; however, he was rather small for his age, just as Edward had always been. Awakening to a strange place with various startling beeps and foreign machinery had the boy uneasy, and he desperately _longed_ for knowledge of his situation, _craved_ the reassurance of his _beloved_ older brother, and _burned_ with the desire to be told the results of the attempt of their human transmutation to resurrect their late mother. Had they succeeded? Had they brought their mother back? "E-excuse me, but… Who are you, and… Where am I," Alphonse croaked hoarsely, his throat stinging from sudden use after being stagnant for four long years.

A look of _hurt_ and _shock_ clearly etched itself onto the golden-haired boy's familiar features, his eyes _sorrowfully_ cradling _pain_ to their glossy breasts. "C'mon, Al. Don't be stupid," he chuckled out nervously, a sheepish grin pulling at the corners of his pale lips. Even the adolescent's voice sounded similar to Alphonse' older brother's, sending a surge of _loneliness_ coursing through his veins, and, distracted by that _loneliness_, he did not recognize the fact that the young man had already known his name, although they had not previously been introduced. The young boy was tempted to reach out from his bed and embrace the teenager beside him, the resemblance to his older brother making the desire to be with him stronger, but he restrained himself. Instead, the younger Elric asked, "Where's my older brother? His name is Edward. Can I see him? Where am I?" The questions, which had been _chaotically_ bombarding his mind, spilled out frantically, his weak voice beginning to shake with _anxiety_ and _uncertainty_, and as they spurted from his tiny mouth like _blood_ from a severed artery. The unsure smile immediately left the young man at the bedside's face to be replaced by a concoction of _confusion_ and _horror_. "You don't remember anything? You don't recognize me," he choked out weakly, silencing the river of questions that rapidly poured from the young boy.

Alphonse took a long moment to carefully study the figure beside him in confusion, a wild _desperation_ to know _anyone_, _anything_, turning his veins to _burning_ icicles. His eyes swept quickly, yet very absorbingly, over the young man's silken gold locks of blond hair, his deep golden eyes, his clothing, his shoes, and even his hands, and the more he investigated the features, the more he reminded Alphonse of Edward. "No… I don't remember," he whispered apologetically, shaking his head. "You really do look awfully familiar, though. You know, actually, you look exactly like my older brother would if he were your age. You have the same hair and the same eyes, and even the same voice as him too. I wish he were here with me. Do you, by any chance, know where he is?" He paused, sadly giggling to himself as he remembered his elder sibling, dropping his gaze to the plain white sheets that fell lightly over his legs. "I want to know that he's all right, and I want to know if our transmutation was successful."

"We... We failed, Al." Came the adolescent's voice, and if the younger Elric had not known that it belonged to an unknown gentleman, he would have instantly mistaken it for Edward's. Upon those words meeting his small ears, Alphonse' head shot up to stare, wide-eyed, at the young man who, in response, adverted his own gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact as if the boy's eyes were a corrosive _acid_. It was only then that the young alchemist came to realize that the stranger had said his name, and had chosen a rather odd, and _chilling_, way to phrase the response to Alphonse's babbling. _We failed, Al_ _we, we, we_. _Confusion_ spun the young boy's mind, and he absently stared at the elder person, attempting to come up with of a means by which he could have possibly known his name and why he had chosen to word his statement the way he did. "My brother and I… My brother and I did the transmutation… I'm sorry, but I really don't know who you are. Please… Please tell me where my brother is."

The young man's beautiful amber eyes seemed to grow wetter, and he dropped his head to look at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers. At this, a _horrible_ feeling of dread burned at Alphonse' stomach. Why did the boy seem so sad at the mention of the older Elric? Did something happen to him? The steady beating of his heart quickly morphed into rapid fluttering and his breathing grew irregular. "What? What happened to Ed? Is he okay? Please! Tell me where he is," he yelled in a panic, his hand grabbing a fistful of the young man's black shirt to forcefully pull him up to his face, their noses only millimeters apart. "Please, tell me! I'm scared! What happened to my big brother? Why aren't you-" Alphonse stopped as soon as he heard a choked sob resonate from the teenager, whose arms snaked around him and whose head rested upon his shoulder. "Oh, Alphonse… I'm right here… I'm okay," he murmured into his ear, causing Alphonse to stiffen, startled by his words. The younger boy was about to croak out another question, but the stranger continued, his arms tightening around his shoulders. "Al… We failed to bring our mom back. We didn't appreciate Equivalent Exchange as much as we should, and as payment for our attempt at human transmutation, my left leg got taken, and you lost your whole body. I had to do something to save you... I couldn't lose my little brother... I mean, you're all I have. So, I sacrificed my right arm to attach your soul to a suit of armor. We spent four years trying to find a Philosopher's Stone to restore our original bodies, and now... You're finally flesh and blood and whole again, but it seems like you don't remember... It's me, Al, my sweet baby brother... It's me, Ed..."

A stinging sensation made itself evident behind Alphonse' obsidian eyes as he listened to the teenager's monologue, and, although he was _confused_ and _shocked_, to say the least, the teenager's _desperate_ voice, along with his own instincts, was enough to convince him that this young man was telling the truth. "B-brother," he asked, blinking rapidly in an attempt to rid his vision of the _tears_ settling on his lower lids, and he felt the stranger nod into the crook of his neck. "I'm here, Al. I'm right here. Your big brother is here..." Edward sobbed, which _crumbled_ Alphonse, who quickly threw his arms up to return his brother's tight hug, his own _weeping_ mixing with his older brother's. "Please... P-please, don't cry," he begged, his heart _breaking_ for his elder sibling. He knew Edward was never one to cry very often; that was usually Alphonse' job, but now his brother was openly _sobbing_ into his shoulder, which frightened him. "I'm sorry I don't remember, but please, don't cry..." He began to rub circles on Edward's back, trying to soothe him, and squeezed him tighter. "I'm sorry..."

A soft chuckle met Alphonse' ears and he could feel Edward shake his head. "What the hell are you sorry for, Al? It's not your fault. I'm guessing Equivalent Exchange took your memories as payment for getting your body back." The oldest Elric pulled away from the embrace reluctantly and Alphonse' watched as he lifted his hand and felt the warm skin if his palm against his damp cheek, his thumbs wiping away the _tears_. Olive eyes traveled down to Edward's other hand, having remembered that he had said that his right arm was taken by Equivalent Exchange, and sure enough, five metal digits protruded from an artificial hand, which connected to an artificial wrist. His jacket blocked Alphonse' view of the whole limb, but he guessed it continued up to at least the elbow, maybe even the shoulder, and he felt his heart _rip_ in two. "Your arm... You lost it to save me? It's because of me? It's my-" His voice caught as he choked back a sob that was _begging_ for release. "…My fault?"

Alphonse dropped his gaze from his older brother and blinked out a few hot tears, his shoulders shaking as he _wept_ quietly. In an instant, he felt arms around him and unconsciously leaned into the warm embrace. "No, Alphonse! It is not your fault, you hear me? I did what I did because I love you! You're my little bother... I would be happy to lose every single one of my limbs if it meant that I could save you from disappearing," came Edward's thick voice, and Alphonse could feel that his body was shaking as if he were trying to contain his grief. The strawberry blonde's chest _squeezed_, and his veins _constricted_, heart seeming to stop as his elder sibling, his only family left, broke down as he held him in his arms. _Pain_... The thought of his older brother _hurting_, being in _pain_, _tore_ at him, _ripped_ what minuscule scar tissue he had as a heart to _shreds_. It _choked_ him, _suffocated_ him, _burned_ inside of his little chest. Why was he causing his beloved sibling so much _pain_? Even if the boy couldn't remember what had happened, he knew a reunion should be joyous, and from what he understood, this was the first time Edward had seen him in his human body for some time. This should be an ecstatic moment for him, not a moment full of pain and tears. His lack of memory and his _guilt_ was _hurting_ his brother, causing him _pain_, and what _hurt_ his brother _hurt_ him as well. Edward's _pain_ was Alphonse' _pain_. They were one in the same, tied together by the love strings that connected the two, bonded their close relationship. How long they held each other, Alphonse wasn't entirely certain, nor did he care. In that time that passed, Edward _needed_ him, and he would _always_ be there for him; that, he was sure of.

"Brother, where are we now? This doesn't look like home…" Alphonse muttered quietly into Edward's ear, and, almost immediately, another sob _tore_ itself from the elder boy's being, injecting a rush of _guilt_ into the little alchemist's _poor_, _scarred_ heart. "Oh, Al… We're at the hospital in central city... We um... We don't have a home to go to anymore... We burned it down on October third, nineteen-eleven... We didn't want to have somewhere to go back to, so that we could push forward with our journey and never stop," came the golden blonde's strangled voice, blatantly shaking with what Alphonse guessed was _grief_. Why was he causing so much _pain_ to his brother? Alphonse' felt his heart _tighten_ and push _tears_ into his eyes. What was left now? His mother was _gone_, he _burned_ down his home and couldn't even remember, and his brother, who he never wanted to _hurt_, was missing two of his limbs and was _sobbing_ into his shoulder. The poor boy felt sick, his head _spinning_ with questions and thoughts. There was a _strangling_ sensation in Alphonse' throat, but whether it was vomit or pure _emotion_, he wasn't sure. He didn't want to take the risk of getting sick down his brother's back, and he only nodded in response.

The two were quiet for quite a long time, the only sounds coming from an occasional sob. It was hard for Alphonse to digest it all. He and his brother had failed to bring their mom back, and as a result, Edward lost his left leg, while he had lost his whole body. On top of that, his big brother had even _sacrificed_ his arm for him, putting a _heavy_, _icy_ blanket of _guilt_ over Alphonse' shoulders. His _home_, _everything_ he had known for the ten, or fourteen in actuality, years of his life had _vanished_, seemingly instantaneously. How was he expected to react? He was _confused_ to say the least, but he wanted to be strong for Edward, who needed him now more than ever. What should he do? He wished he could break down in _tears_ and relieve the pressure building up in his tiny chest, or _scream_, or block out the whole world, _ignoring_ everything, pretending it never happened, but what would that do to his sibling? Certainly, it would cause him more _pain_ than he was already in at the present. Alphonse, having too pure of a heart, as _scarred_ and _hurt_ as it was, could not do that to him. "…I feel sick," he stated softly, simply, swallowing hard to push back his _overwhelming_ emotions as they continued to _boil_ inside him with increasing brutality.

He felt Edward's hand begin to massage his back gently and hold him firmly to his chest, which convulsed with his silent _weeping_. "That's okay, Al…You're all right… And… I'm sorry… I know this must be so hard on you..." _Hard_ was an understatement. "But, I promise you… I promise you that you'll always be taken care of, no matter what. I'll always be there for you, just like mom was… If you have a nightmare, I'll comfort you and let you sleep in my bed. If you get hurt, I'll bandage it and make it all better. If you're sick, I'll make you as much chicken noodle soup as you need. I'll take care of you, Al… I'm your older brother, and I love you… I love you so much." Alphonse couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's softer side, which was very rarely seen, and sniffled, burying his face into Edward's warm chest. He took in the scent, the _familiar_, _sweet_, _comforting_ scent that gave him a sense of _security_, and he calmed dramatically, feeling _safe_ in his sibling's arms.

* * *

><p>Please note that this chapter takes place much <em><strong>BEFORE<strong>_ the prologue.

That's all really. .

Please review! I want to hear what you guys think! Should I keep writing, or is it a complete waste of time and effort?

Tell me!

See ya next chapter! 3


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Many a time, Alphonse had collapsed during his sessions of physical therapy, having pushed himself too far, too soon for his _weak_ body to handle, and it _frustrated_ him to staggering heights. He wanted to be _alone,_away from the continuous _poking_ and _prodding_ of the dedicated nurses, and the _pain_ of regaining his muscle strength. He could do things on his _own_ at his _own_ pace. He did not need _help_ from the hospital staff. The one and _only_ person he required for his recovery was his brother_,_his _adoring_, _overprotective_, _stubborn_, _brilliant_, _hot_-_headed_, _beloved_ brother, the one who had been with him through _everything_, all of the _pain_ he had endured in his short life. So _comforting_, so _caring_, so _loving_ Edward had been in the days after their _precious_ mother had passed, knowing that the little Elric needed somebody to _care_ for him, to _love_ him, to _protect_ him, to hold his hand when he crossed the street. He had dried the _tears_ that had stained Alphonse' cheeks and _stung_ his eyes, all the while holding him close and _reassuring_ him that everything would be all right. To his older brother, this had happened years ago, but to Alphonse, who could not remember those four years, the _pain_, the _hurt_, the _sorrow_, the _loneliness_, the _heartbreak_, the _guilt_, the _confusion,_the _pain_, the _pain_, the _pain_ was so _fresh_, so _real,_so _tormenting,_so _painful_, _painful_, _painful._The _shock_, the _disappointment_, the _heartache_ of the failed transmutation to bring back the woman who had given him _life_ was, to him, new and _horrible_ and so _painful,_which is not to say that it did not sadden Edward as well, but he had had four years to handle it, whereas, according to Alphonse' memory, it had only happened the day before.

Countless times during his stay at the hospital, the _poor_, _innocent_, _kind_ boy was rudely awaked by _cruel_ nightmares _haunting_ his once peaceful dreams, _frightening_ him, _torturing_ him, _plaguing_ him, _taunting_ him, _mocking_ him, and he had _screamed_, and _cried_, and _trembled_, and _whined_ for his mother, and _cried_, and _cried_, and _cried_. So many _tears_had been shed, so many that they began to lose their _meaning_, their _symbolism_, their _value,_but nevertheless, Edward had been there at his side to dry every single one of the, perhaps, hundreds of _tears_ that had been pumped out of Alphonse' beautiful obsidian eyes like rivers of water down the face of a snow-laced mountain. He had been there to _calm_ the trembling, _shush_ the sobs with warm embraces, _ease_ the horrendous _pain_ of losing their mom, yet again, with _soft_, _reassuring_, _gentle_ words whispered into his ear. Every particle of his entire being _yearned_, _begged_, _desired_, _longed_ for one last chance to at least just lay his eyes upon the strong, brave woman who had given birth to him and his brother. It _wracked_ his small body with _sadness_, _wore_ him down, _weighed_ heavy on his shoulders, _pounded_ away at him with hammers of dense sorrow, heavier than lead. Keep pounding a rock, and it will _break_.

But he would not. He promised himself he would not break. He would not give in to the _despair_, the _sadness_, the _guilt_, the _remorse_, the _depression_ that danced with _anticipation_ at the edge of the _whirlwind_ of his mixed emotions, the doorway to _mind_, his _soul_, his _heart_, his _being_, awaiting its chance to _stampede_ inside with its weapons drawn, _trample_ any glimmer of _hope_, or _happiness_, or _joy_, or _love,_and _destroy_ it like the _monster_ it was, _devour_ it, _tear_ it to _shreds_. It was a truly _enticing_ offer, to give up the struggle of maintaing his _vicious_ emotions, to cease attempting to push his way through the crowds of _uncertain_ thoughts and feelings, and let himself drift through life without caring what went on around him, _apathetic_. He had fought to push it away, and won, but the _depression_ was a _malevolent_ beast, always _lurking_ in the shadows of his mind, _watching_with eyes _scorching_ with _evil_ intentions, _waiting_for a chance to take over and wreak its havoc, _stalking_ him. Oh, how easy it would have been to simply stop trying to fight against it and comply to its _incessant_ demands to _dominate_ his heart, but Alphonse had Edward, whom he loved to the moon and back, and as long as Edward was with him, he would have the _strength_, the _will_, the _motivation_ to keep fighting, and _win_. He could not let himself _fall_, _break_, because he knew that his older brother would _break_ as well. Alphonse' pain. Edward's pain. If fighting for _himself_ was not a good enough reason to keep _battling_ the _war_ going on in his soul, then he would fight for _Edward_, and that was all the reason he needed. Edward's _smiles_ and _hugs_ and gentle _whispers_ were all he needed. Everything would be for _Edward_, for _Edward_, for _Edward_, for _Edward_.

That is not to say that Alphonse did not feel _joy_. He was not _depressed,_ despite its attempts to _invade_ his emotional wall. He would not let himself become that way, for Edward's sake if not for his own. On the contrary, he was _happy_, _chipper_, _humorous_, _delightful_, _bright_, _energetic_, _happy_, _happy_, _happy_. He was _happy_ to be spending so much time with his _darling_ older brother, who was equally as _happy_ to take care of him. The hospital stay was not one that was entirely filled with _pain_, and _sadness_, and _guilt_, and _remorse_, and _fear,_and _pain_. Not at all. The nurses, the doctors, the other patients he interacted with, they were _kind_, and _supportive_, and _fun_ to be around. He _enjoyed_ their _companionship_ and _care_. He had been so _excited_, so _ecstatic_, so _happy_when a relative of a fellow patient, who was a rather cute girl around his age visiting a loved one, had given him her telephone number. Perhaps, he would call her when he was released. Edward had laughed and patted his head while jokingly muttering, "You can't get a girlfriend before me, Al. I'm the older brother. _You're_ supposed to follow in _my_ footsteps. Haha," to which Alphonse had responded, "You may be older, big brother, but _I'm_ cuter! Hehehe!" Oh, how they had _laughed_, and _laughed_, and _laughed_ as they teased each other and poked fun at one nurse in particular, who had a much less than pleasant attitude about her. In fact, to put it candidly, she was the _rudest_ and most _aggressive_ woman Alphonse had ever met, but she was _beautiful_ on the outside, despite how _hideous_ she was on the inside. "I guess beauty really _is_ only skin deep, brother." Alphonse had joked, giggling into his fist, and Edward had nodded heartily in agreement. "You ain't kidding! I don't think I've ever seen a woman as beautiful, but _man_, what a _bitch_!"

The _good_ times most certainly _outweighed_ the _bad_ during Alphonse' admission to the hospital, and truly, he was perfectly content just having his brother at his side. The only moments where he felt the overwhelming _despair_, _hurt_, _sorrow_, _remorse_, _guilt_, _heartbreak_, _loneliness_, was when he was thinking, lying in the uncomfortable hospital bed. The period before he would fall asleep is when he would really _think_. It was not his intention to make himself _upset_, or _cry_. In fact, his intentions were quite the opposite. He thought about the _good_ times, the _happy_ times, the fond _memories_ he had of his mother, hoping to get a _smile_ out of it, or a _chuckle,_ and it had worked for a time, but it soon turned _sour_, _painful_, when he realized that he and Edward would _never_ again have moments like those with their mother. They would _never_ see her again. They would _never_ hear her voice again. They would _never_ hold her hand again. They would _never_ be comforted by her warm embraces again. Trisha was _gone_, and those thoughts were the _torturous_ thoughts that broke through his emotional barrier, a shield to fend of _pain_, and _sadness_, and _despair_, and _loneliness_, and _pain,_but only slightly. The savage _beast_, who went by the name of '_depression_', made a small crack in Alphonse' emotional wall into which it was only able poke its _ugly,__gruesome_ head. The _tears_ would start, and his body would start to tremble as silent sobs _wracked_ his small body. Edward, who had spent _every_ single night sleeping at the hospital to ensure Alphonse' safety and wellbeing, would never let the _hurt_, the _pain_, the _despair_ escalate farther than that. Hearing the boy's ragged breathing, he would immediately gather him in his arms and _shush_ him, _comfort_ him, _stroke_ his hair until he fell asleep, _reassure_ him that everything would be all right, and that he, in fact, was not _alone_ at all. He would _always_ be at Alphonse' side to pick him up when he was down. That was his _job_, his _duty_, his _compensation_ for the all the _heartache_ that, he believed, he had caused his little brother. That is what brothers were for, _protection_, _reassurance_, _love_, _friendship_, _laughter_, _comfort_, _companionship_, loyalty, _fun,_ and it was that that repaired the cracks in Alphonse' mental shield, gave him the strength to _fight_, and _win_. He would _not_ let himself _break_, for _Edward_, for _Edward_, for _Edward_, for _Edward_.

Through his _strenuous_ efforts and multiple frustrating _failures_, Alphonse felt himself growing _stronger_, his muscles able to accomplish more than they had during previous sessions of physical therapy. He was able to lift _heavier_ weights, throw the exercise ball _farther,_climb an _increasing_ number of stairs, among other exercises that he had been unable to complete at the very beginning. He felt so _empowered_, so _strong_, so _capable_, so _significant_, so _proud_, so _worthy,_and what was even _better,_ Edward was _proud_ of him. His big brother was _proud_ of him. Someone so _strong_ already was _proud_ of him. The person he looked up to was _proud_ of him, _proud_, _proud_, _proud,_ so _proud_ of Alphonse' progress, his growing strength, and the little Elric was _happier_ than he thought he could _ever_ be; however, there was a set back. His muscles were regaining their strength much faster than his immune system, which was _dangerous_, leading to innocent _arrogance_. Alphonse, with his new _strength_, believed he could do _anything_, everything he used to be able to do, and he snuck outside during a thunderstorm, remembering the numerous times he had done that as a young child. It was facile to escape from his hospital suit, because his room was in close proximity to the exit doors. All he had to do was wait for Edward to take a bathroom break, and sure enough, soon after lunch, his older brother had taken to the restroom to relieve his bladder. It was then that Alphonse made his break for it. The opportunity was _irresistible_. He _loved_ how the rain felt on his skin, _loved_ the way it soaked his hair and his clothes, _loved_ the sound of the roaring thunder, _loved_ the transient, striking bolts of lightning that lit up the darkened sky. It had caused a _riot_ and a _panic_ for the hospital staff, and he was almost certain that poor Edward would also have to be admitted to the hospital, but for a heart attack, but he needed to at _least_ get out and breathe in _fresh_ air, instead of the _stagnant_ hospital air that smelled of patients and medicine. He needed to have _fun,_and _fun_ he had, until the next morning.

He had gotten so _sick_, oh so _sick_. The storm had been so _punitive_. His _weak_ body put him at a high disposition to contract a _virus_, and _luck_ had not been on his side. Immediately when he woke up in the morning, his nose was _plugged_, his throat _ached_, his stomach was in _knots_, his head _spun_, the fever _boiled_ him alive, and his muscles were so _sore,_ so _stiff_. The poor little boy was _miserable._The _agony_, the _discomfort_, the _misery_, the _horrible_ symptoms plagued him for nine long days, much longer than it would have if only he had not let his _impatience_ and _excitement_ get the better of him, or, perhaps, he would not have gotten sick at all, but he was _stronger,_he was growing more _confident_ with himself, and he had not run through the rain in what felt like a _thousand_ years. He could not _help_ himself, and he _suffered_ the consequences. He had been so _tired,_ so _drained_, so _listless,_ as if the virus was a _vacuum_, consuming every single ounce of his once _plentiful_ energy, but the _coughing_, the _sneezing_, the _aches_, the _pains_, the _hot_ flashes, the _cold_ flashes, the _knots_ in his stomach kept him awake. He could not _breathe_ through the _congestion_ squeezing his chest, he could not talk through the _pain_ in his throat_,_he could not eat without his stomach _rebelling_ and _rejecting_ all its contents, he could not stand up to walk to the bathroom without the room _spinning_ around him, bringing on more nausea, and he could not shift to find a more comfortable position without his muscles _cramping_. Oh, the poor, poor, _miserable_ boy was so _**miserable**_, but Edward stayed at his side, placing cool facecloths on Alphonse' forehead to help bring down the fever and keep him comfortable, patting his back when the coughing _suffocated_ him, holding his hair when his stomach decided it was time to expel all of its contents, and comforted him whenever the tears of _misery_, and _agony_, and _pain_ started. Edward _always_ comforted Alphonse. He was such a _great_ older brother, and Alphonse felt as if he did not show his _appreciation_ enough.

It seemed as though Edward did _everything_ for Alphonse, despite how much trouble it caused him. For instance, when Alphonse had complained about the hospital cafeteria's food being _bland_ and _boring_, Edward had gone right out and bought his little brother some _delicious_ stew from a local restaurant, and Alphonse had accepted it with a smile and an enthusiastic "thank you!" Edward was doing so much for him, yet he was not giving him _anything_ in return. Where was the _equivalence_? Where was the equivalent exchange? Edward had been there for Alphonse every minute of every day, _comforting_ him when he was upset, buying him _scrumptious_ meals when the hospital food made him grimace in _disgust_, taking _care_ of him when he was sick, and giving him words of _encouragement_ when he was feeling down. Did Alphonse even deserve such _kindness_, such _dedication_, such _love_, such _loyalty_? He felt as though he was not holding up his end of the bargain, which added to his festering _guilt_, _boiling_ inside of his melting pot of _vicious_ negative emotions. It began to _pain_ him when Edward did nice things, such as brush out the knots in Alphonse' silken hair, or offer a shoulder to lean on when fatigue struck during their walks down the hallways, which were intended to build up the strength in the boy's legs. Edward did all of this and _so_ much more, so _much_, so much, so _much_, and Alphonse kept _taking_, and _taking_, and _taking_ without giving back. The _guilt_ added weight to the _hammer_ of feelings that was continuously pounding at Alphonse.

What was _worse_ about the situation was the fact that, unlike the _painful_, _lonely_ thoughts of their late mother, Edward's _kindness_, and _dedication_, and _companionship_, and _respect_, and _loyalty_, and _generosity_, and _selflessness_, and _love_ was _always_ there, _always,_which is not to say that Alphonse wished his older brother would stop being as _kind_ as he was. He did not _fault_ his brother for _caring_ for him and _protecting_ him. He could _never_ find any _fault_ in his older brother. To him, his older brother was so _high_, so _mighty_, so _powerful_, so _great_, so _strong_. As a scientist, he did not believe in God, in unprovable theories, but to him, Edward was his _god_, his _savior_, his _guide_, his _salvation,_ the one who would always _save_ him, and _forgive_ him, and _love_ him. He could never fault Edward for being _kind_, and _caring_, and _loving_. If Alphonse could find _fault_ in anybody, it was himself, and the little Elric desperately _wished,_ and _hoped,_ and _begged_ that he could have some way to _return_ the favors. He had to do _something_, _something_, _something_, _anything,_ _anything_ for his older brother, but _what_? What could he _possibly_ offer to _compensate_ for all of Edward's efforts? The feelings of _empowerment_, and _worthiness_, and _confidence_, and _strength_ began to fade, and he began to fall down the rabbit hole of _self-loathing_ and _worthlessness_. Keep pounding a rock, and it will _break._

And, perhaps, he was _cracking_ under the pressure.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Congratulations, Alphonse. You are now strong enough to go home, and you are released from Central Command Infirmary," Said the gorgeous nurse whose outer beauty did not match her repulsive inner filthiness, and the two brothers' eyes widened with _joy_, shouting with _excitement_ and _exhilaration_. Alphonse' heart beat increased rapidly, and he felt as if it were about to rip itself out of his chest and show off it's _scarred_ and _torn_ face, and his stomach fluttered _pleasantly_ with _warm_ butterflies swarming about, and goosebumps of _anticipation_ dotted the pale skin of the boy's limbs. "Did you hear that, brother? I can leave! I can leave! I can go home with you! Yay! I'm so excited! I'm strong enough now," Alphonse happily exclaimed, throwing his arms around Edward, who was sitting in a chair next to his hospital bed, and he felt his older brother ruffle his hair affectionately, and a chuckle erupted from the older teenager's muscle-sculpted chest. "Haha, yeah, I heard her, Al! I'm right here next to you, how could I not hear? That's great! I'm so happy for you! We'll do everything that-"

"Don't get too excited." The doctor's aide cut off their enthusiasm, closing her eyes with an annoyed look on her _arrogant_, _egotistical_, _self-centered_, heavily made-up face. "He still needs to take it slow. You guys can't just go out and do whatever you want. He's strong enough to leave, but that doesn't mean he's really that strong at all. I mean, look at him. He's still so scrawny. He's still really puny." She scoffed and flashed a _disgusted_ expression as her deep emerald green eyes traveled up and down Alphonse' body, causing him to shy away and shrink back into Edward's embrace in self-consciousness. "He still can't go outside for very long, and he'll need to take several naps during the day. You can't just run out of here like he's perfectly fine, because he's not. He'll get sick if he goes outside, not like I care about that. He's just another patient to make my job that much harder for me. He'll have to eat frequent meals with small proportions, and take naps during the day if he gets tired. He should stay in bed for most of the time. The little brat shouldn't even-"

"That's enough," Edward bellowed, and Alphonse felt his older brother's arms tighten around him, as if to reassure him that the nasty comments the nurse was uttering were not to be taken to heart. "We understand what you're trying to say. Who do you think you are to pick on a little kid? Do you really have nothing better to do? It's not your job to make fun of your patients. Listen, _bitch,_ if you so much as look at him again, I'll transmute your pretty little face into some sort of grotesque mush. _No__one_makes fun of my little brother without consequences. You're lucky I'm so excited for his release. I usually don't give warnings. Leave us alone, and go pick on someone your own size." In response to Edward's admonishing, the nurse rolled here eyes and began to twirl a strand of hair in her fingers, chewing her gum loudly. "Whatever." She retorted before turning and heading out of the room.

Alphonse stared up at his older brother in gratitude, feeling touched by Edward's words. His savior, his salvation, his guide, his _god_had stood up for him, and defended him, protected him from the harsh words of the nurse. "You stood up for me..." He muttered absently, and Edward turned his head to look down at the boy who had sunken into his chest. Chuckling, he replied, "Of course I did. You didn't think I would stick up for my little brother?"

Alphonse felt his gratitude swell, to the point where he thought he might cry out of pure happiness. "Thank you, Brother... Really... That was really nice of you..." He whispered, nuzzling into the warmth, and security, and care, and love of his brother's strong embrace. The scent of Edward filled his nose, and he smiled. He loved his brother's scent, his familiar, distinctive, unique scent that instantaneously calmed Alphonse in the times during which he needed comfort, which seemed to be frequently. 'I must be so annoying to Brother...' the little boy thought in dismay, sighing sadly as he drew away from Edward, abandoning the warmth of his older brother's hug to hide in the blankets, feeling the buzz of his previous excitement fading rapidly as self-loathing took hold. From what Alphonse could remember, he had not been so clingy to Edward, so dependent of him, and their relationship had been perfectly fine, but now, Alphonse felt as if he spent every moment either hugging Edward, or being comforted because he was crying. Their relationship now was so different than what it had once been. Without their mother, the young boy needed somebody to take care of him, but it was not fair to Edward to have to support his little brother constantly. Did Edward feel cheated, or used, or taken advantage of? 'Nobody wants their little brother hanging off them all the time... Why am I so clingy? Why can't I just leave him alone for at least two minutes?' The thoughts brought tears to Alphonse' eyes. It hurt to think that his older brother was annoyed with him, or wished he had not had such a little brother. It was not fair. It was not fair. It was not _fair_!

"Hm? What's the matter, Al? You just pulled away all of a sudden. Did I do something wrong?" Edward sounded concerned, sad, dejected, confused.

Alphonse cringed, the words piercing his heart, adding to the scars that were already present. He pulled the blankets over his head to hide his shame, his guilt, his remorse, he sorrow, his sadness, the _tears_ that were beginning to boil up behind his eyes. Why did Edward think everything was his fault when Alphonse was the one who had committed some sort of wrong doing? Why did he always insist on taking the blame? He did not want Edward to comfort him. He did not want to put so much responsibility on Edward's shoulders. No older brother should have to take care of their little sibling all the time. That is no way for a teenage boy to enjoy his youth. This was the first time he _wished_ Edward would go away and leave him alone, but not out of stubbornness; it was purely out of _care_, and thoughtfulness, and guilt. "Nothing..." He whined thickly, his throat straining to conceal the wavering in his voice.

The bed shifted, which Alphonse guessed was Edward moving closer to him, and felt a gentle hand rub circles on his trembling back. "Hey... C'mon, Alphonse... Why the hell are you crying? Shouldn't you be happy that you're being discharged from the hospital?" Edward's voice had a false cheerfulness too it, but the younger Elric knew better. He knew that he was _hurting_ his brother with his own sadness. Alphonse' _pain_. Edward's _pain_. No, no... He did not want to be causing Edward _pain_. He did not want his dear, beloved, darling older brother to feel bad, but he also did not want Edward to comfort him, take care of him, endure the heavy responsibility of having a small child to take care of. He could not do that to Edward. What was Alphonse supposed to do? What should he do? Alphonse knew that if he did not put a stop to his older brother's loving gestures, Edward would continue to comfort him, but if he were to slap Edward's hand away, that would _hurt_ him even further. 'Stop comforting me! Stop it! Stop it!' He begged silently, squeezing his eyes shut in desperation and sorrow. 'It's not always about me! Stop making everything about me! Stop doing everything for me! Stop it! Just leave me alone! I love you, Brother... I love you... I love you, but I _hate_ how it's always about me...'

"Brother, why are you so dedicated to comforting me?" Alphonse asked quietly, almost inaudibly, coming upon the decision to stay still, not slapping Edward's hand away, nor cuddling into the consolation and assurance.

Edward's hand stopped moving, lying still between Alphonse' shoulder blades. "Is that what this is about? You don't want me to comfort you? But aren't you sad, Alphonse? I can see that you're crying... Don't you want me to help you feel better?"

"Brother, stop interrogating me when you didn't even answer my question!" Alphonse' frustration was swelling, the boiling pot of _negativity_ bubbling higher and higher as the heat was slowly intensified, threatening to push off the lid that kept the storms of emotions contained.

"Al, what's gotten into you-" Edward stopped himself, realizing that he was about to ask yet another question after Alphonse had just yelled at him for doing so. He sighed refocusing himself on his little brother's question. "Why am I so dedicated to comforting you? Do you really have to ask? Isn't it simple, Al? You're going through a really rough time right now, and you're my little brother. I love you more than anything in this entire world. So, I want to be there for you and help you get through this, because isn't that what brother's are for? What kind of an older brother would I be if I didn't at least try to help you?"

A sob tore itself from Alphonse' chest violently, and he sat up quickly with crying eyes blazing with _hatred_ toward himself. "But where's the equivalent exchange?" He screeched, every inch of his body quivering. "Why is it that you do everything for me, but I can't do anything for you? Why is it always about me? Why? Why can't you focus on _yourself_ for once? Why can't _I_ be the one taking care of _you_?" His voice rang through the hospital suit, echoing off the walls, _mocking_ him. "It's so much responsibility for you! It's not fair! It's not fair, Brother! It's not fair!" His fists pounded the bedsheets as the tears poured from his eyes in heavily flowing streams. "Why is it always about me?"

Edward went silent for a moment, and Alphonse could feel his elder brother's shocked gaze piercing him. "Al... Don't worry about that... You _have_ given me something in return..." Edward's voice was soft and airy, and Alphonse felt a hand wipe away a couple of tears off of his cheeks. "Alphonse, look at me. Please?" The older boy pleaded, cupping the strawberry blond's face in his gentle hands.

"No..." Alphonse moaned, a fit of sobs escaping him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could not bear to look into his brother's eyes, which, he assumed, would be full of _hurt_, and anger, and resentment, and hatred. He could not handle the added pressure of Edward's emotions adding to his own overflowing melting pot.

He felt Edward's hands jerk his head slightly, and, out of reflex, Alphonse's eyes snapped open to look at his older brother, forgetting about his earlier fear of his emotions. "Alphonse, please, listen to me..." Alphonse' heart broke at how saddened Edward's voice sounded. "Alphonse, if I didn't want to take care of you, do you think I would be? If I didn't want to take on the responsibility of raising my brother, do you think I would?" He paused, trying to find the words to say, and let his hands drop to his sides. "Al, your smiles, and 'thank you's, and your happiness is more than enough for 'equivalent exchange'. Al, I don't even need anything in return. I don't want you to feel like you have to give me anything in exchange for taking care of you. Okay?"

Wiping his eyes, Alphonse shook his head, and he heard Edward sigh. It was not right! He had to give Edward something in return! There had to be some sort of compensation. Hearing his older brother groan broke Alphonse out of his thoughtful silence. "Alphonse, if you really want to give me something, then come here and give me a big hug. We both need it." Edward said quietly, and the younger boy lifted his head to look at him. The elder Elric sat with his arms open, a gentle expression on his beautiful face, and Alphonse froze. How could Edward still be so caring? How could he expect nothing in return? Alphonse had given him _nothing_, yet Edward was still _giving_. There was that situation again. What should Alphonse do? He did not want to _reject_ Edward, cause him _pain,_ but Alphonse did not want to keep _taking_. 'Brother said he needed it too... Maybe giving him a hug will help make up for everything he has done for me... Oh, no... I'm gonna cry... Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry... I can't do that to him... Not again... He can't be the one comforting me again... ' He told himself, falling into Edward's open arms.

His self control _broke_ as Edward closed the embrace around him, and Alphonse sobbed and bawled and gripped fistfuls of his brother's clothes in his hands. "I'm sorry..." He whimpered into his chest, and he felt Edward rub his back. "Don't be sorry, Alphonse. Everything is okay."

And again, Edward gave his comfort while Alphonse took it.

No equivalence.

No exchange.

Just _pain_.


End file.
